


Happy Holidays

by Squeemish



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Sofa cuddles, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 15:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17185988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeemish/pseuds/Squeemish
Summary: Christmas isn't a big deal for Julian, but one can never have too many reasons to spend time with a beloved lizard.





	Happy Holidays

“Are you sure?”

Julian shoved his hands into his pockets, lip curled in an awkward smile. 

“I'm sure. Christmas isn't really my… _thing_.”

Miles nodded in understanding, a little disappointed. 

“Well, if you change your mind, give us a chime.”

Julian wouldn't, but he nodded anyway as Miles waved him goodbye. As soon as the Chief’s back was turned, Julian sensed a looming presence behind his; he smiled, and began to walk, ears perked up in case of a familiar voice. 

“Doctor?” The voice came from his left. Julian turned to look, and bowed his head in greeting. 

“Mr. Garak.”

“Chief O'Brien seemed a little put off just now. May I ask why?”

“He invited me to have Christmas dinner with them next week. Apparently Kira and Jadzia are going as well, but I decided not to.”

“I see.” Garak fell into pace beside him, an intrigued glint in his eye, “A Terran holiday?” 

“Yes. And one I don't participate in.” He wasn't too keen on discussing it either, and so he stopped to offer his arm to Garak, grin coy. 

“Lunch at Quark’s?” 

The surprised smile on Garak’s face was soft, and sweet enough to send a shiver down Julian’s spine. _He's so beautiful_. 

“I would be honored,” said Garak, and joined their arms, “And what an excellent choice of venue! It so happens that Quark owes me a free meal for a little incident I helped him deal with a few weeks ago...”  

“Incident?” Julian whispered with wide eyes, leaning in close, as if worried the walls around them might cave in to listen. Garak hummed and gave a curt nod, eyes narrowed thin in a pleased smile. 

“I'll tell you all about it over free lunch.”

A week later Miles checked on him, few hours before the dinner. Julian could only apologize as he declined again, falling to the sofa with a sigh. His plans for the night were set; a classic film or two, snacks and Kukalaka for company, perched on the sofa with him.

Just as he'd settled in, cozy in his pajamas with a blanket and bowl of popcorn on his lap, the chime of his door rang. 

“Good evening, Doctor,” Garak had his hands behind his back, a tight, nervous smile pulling at his lips.  

“Evening,” Julian frowned at Garak’s pale cheeks, “Are you alright? We can go to the infirmary if--”

“I'm perfectly fine,” Garak swallowed, and with eyes cast down, revealed a small purple gift box. 

“I know you said that the holiday isn't to your liking,” He said, “but I thought I'd take the opportunity to give you this.”

Gingerly, Julian took the offered present and held it in cupped hands. 

“Garak…” He trailed off, made speechless by this small unexpected gesture. A warmth swelled in his chest, and from it words came, long waited to be said. 

“Would you like to come in?” Julian stepped aside, and tilted his head in invitation, ”I was going to watch a film, so there's food and, and…”

Garak's mouth fell open. He looked to his right then left, and smoothed down his shirt before nodding. 

“I… Yes. If you don't mind.”

The box under his arm, Julian replicated a few candles, already lit, and placed them on the coffee table. Their light let an unusually warm glow to his dark room, and his shadow swayed as air rippled the small flames. He settled back onto the sofa while Garak still hovered in the doorway, unsure. A nod from Julian nudged him forward, and with tentative steps he made his way to the sofa and sat, hands crossed over his lap.  

“Here,” Julian scooted closer, so their shoulders touched, and pulled the blanket to cover them both, “I was going to watch Casablanca. It's a film made around mid 20th century.”

“I'm not familiar.”

“I think you'll enjoy it. There's enough tragedy in it to compete with your Cardassian tastes.”

Garak quirked a browridge and relaxed, leaning against him ever so slightly. 

“An exaggeration no doubt,” He said, ”but I hope to agree with your assessment regardless.”

The opening credits played. Garak declared the visualization of Earth charming, even though the geography couldn't be helped, a complaint so ridiculous Julian could only fondly roll his eyes. 

Once the story kicked in, Garak shut up. The popcorn went ignored, Garak too engrossed in the film, and Julian in him. When Ingrid Bergman’s Ilsa entered her first scene, Garak sat up, and Bogart as Rick portraying subtle hurt at the sight of his past love had his eyes widen a fraction. Julian bit his smiling lip; all that pride Garak seemed to take in deceit and cynicism, only for his eyes to reveal even the smallest of emotions.

With a shaky breath, Julian snuck an arm around Garak’s waist. 

“I really like you.” He said quietly. 

Garak’s head slowly turned, Humphrey Bogart's laments forgotten. He stared, vulnerable gaze glimmering, a round right cheek left carelessly unguarded. Julian leaned in and pressed a light, wet kiss there, under the cheekbone. 

The scales over Garak’s neck darkened. His eyelids fluttered shut and Julian leaned in a second time, licking the cold lips as Garak pulled him down. 

They missed the rest of the film. Julian caught a glimpse of the end credits from behind Garak’s hair, where his face was more or less buried, body sandwiched between a naked Cardassian and the sofa. He hugged Garak close, and traced the spoonlike shape of his warm lower stomach, each deep, sleepy breath moving his hand. On the table the orange candle flames flickered, and Julian’s vision blurred in golden specks, woven into dark strands of pine scented hair. 

The present. He'd forgotten it on the other side of sofa, where it lay next to Kukalaka. The purple wrapper shimmered in the candle light, inviting. With a kiss and whisper of apology, Julian untangled himself from Garak’s warmth, not having the heart to take any of the blanket. Naked and shivering, knees to his chest he picked the box up, turned it over in his hands, and carefully pulled at the dark blue bow on top. 

Inside was a jumper. Roughly the size of his palm, the colour of science blue. Julian brushed his thumbs over the soft material, a tremor in his hands. He reached for Kukalaka and pulled the jumper on him gently, then eyed the result. It fit perfectly, and Julian covered his mouth, grin so wide his cheeks and heart ached. Still smiling, he blew out the candles and sat Kukalaka on the table between them and the bowl, and crawled back under the blanket. 

“Thank you,” He kissed the back of Garak’s neck, “You lovely, ridiculous man.”

Garak slept on, breathing deeply through parted lips. Arms around his waist, Julian closed his eyes and fell asleep, the scent of smoke and pine lining his dreams. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A sort of a holiday fic for those who don't quite do Christmas.


End file.
